Why am I still here? [Completed]

[for-her-sake.livejournal.com]

Character(s): Ash (No, not the one from Pokemon. Sorry Team Rocket!)
Content:Another useless entrance, I know. After a horrible day, Ash finally manages to escape in dreams only to end up in Paixao. Which he believes to be simply a dream. A very strange dream.
Setting: First half is on Phantom Isle, the second half is at and around the Muspelheim Gate.
Time: Night to Early Morning, Week 2
Warnings: None. (Unless depression (and bad writing) is a problem for you.)

He was so powerless.

He knew Marona was up in her room, heartbroken and crying yet there was nothing he could do about it. He was at a complete loss. He had tried earlier to ask her what was wrong but she simply had brushed him off, saying that she was fine with a smile he knew was fake. Yet no matter how much he tried, he couldn’t get the words to form on his lips to tell her that he knew something was wrong. He couldn’t even muster up the courage to even knock on her bedroom door. Instead he found himself on the roof of the house, staring upward as though the sky could make the situation better.

“I’m so powerless.”

He let these words slip out from his lips in frustration, helplessness. Despite all he wanted to do was try to help Marona, he ended up hurting her instead. A bitter realization came to mind as he thought of this.

“No, if I were powerless at least I wouldn’t be hurting Marona. They call her ‘The Possessed’ because of me…”

He paused, hesitant to speak the words that were already attempting to form themselves onto his lips. As much as it pained him, he knew that these words held truth to them.

“If I didn’t exist….”

He couldn’t even complete the sentence, because he knew already what was to come next. His crimson eyes closing as if resenting the sky for listening all this time, yet refusing to give him an answer. Even if he knew he wasn’t going to get one, not from the sky, not from Haze or Jasmine – he couldn’t help but to feel even more frustrated by it.

“Haze, did you really have to save me?”

That day, they should have saved themselves instead of him. Why him? That was something he could never understand, even now. While sleep did not elude him, the answer to this question constantly did and he found himself cursing the fact that maybe, if he just stayed up a little longer then maybe he would get an answer.

“God….”

Yet for some reason, exhaustion always got the best of him. Even while falling into sleep, though, he couldn’t help but to vocalize another question.

“… why am I still here?”

-------

His eyelids opened again and his eyes viewed quite a spectacular sight. Fields upon endless fields of grass seemed to fill his vision. Something he had never seen before, save for the forests in Wisteria. But even those didn’t compare to this, which signaled to him that this must be a dream. Yet, he found himself perplexed by this – for when he usually dreamed it was of the past. Was this dream a way of his mind (or maybe God) trying to answer his questions? 

It almost seemed like a perfect situation. An awkward, yet perfectly serene dream. Almost.

Dreams are not perfect, however, and the man realized this as he glanced at his arm. His ‘arm’ still the transparent image of itself it had been for years. He sighed, resting his arm back at his side before he caught glimpse of a rather spectacular dome-shaped structure in the hills nearby. How could he have missed that one?

Curiosity overtook him and he quickly got up from his spot on the grass to explore the strange structure. As the structure became closer, (and thus more detailed) he noticed the entrance to the dome was a gate. The gate itself was far from ordinary, the constructed golden flames seem to create a look rather extraordinary. Maybe this was his mind’s interpretation of the entrance to Hell? A rather sarcastic and odd thought, but dreams are dreams and this could very well be the Gates of Hell.

As he neared the gate more, he noticed a line of people standing near the gate.  Maybe they were those condemned to Hell? Yet, as he finally found himself on top of a small hill close to the gate, he realized these people were happy. Something they probably wouldn’t be if they were going to hell. Either that or this was his mind’s way of a cruel reminder. Despite it was probably the latter, he’d rather believe the former – and thus did so. 

He did not want to go near the crowd, but merely how curious and perplexing this ‘dream’ was enough to bring him close enough so that he could hear the few conversations going on within the line. From the sounds of it, his beliefs were correct and this place in his dreams seemed to have a name to it. Though the name didn’t seem to matter to him as much as the now growing interest about what was within the domes, on the other side of the gate.

He should be more cautious, he knew this well. This was nothing but a dream though, couldn’t be – and the worst thing that could happen was that he would wake up from a nightmare. Still, he found himself wary enough to wait upon the sidelines – moving up towards the front so that he could see what was going on. He observed as a person walked up to what seemed to be a guard asking the names of the individuals as they walked in, then handing them a small rectangular object. This was a system that was fairly simple yet he could not understand why such a thing would be in his dreams. Then again, this applied for most everything in this place.

When it came down to it though, there was no other explanation for the surreal area. If it was not a dream, then what was it?

After a while of playing spectator, he decided that there was no harm in entering what was inside. He waited until another person had gone before sliding into the front of the line. With a quick pace, he made his way into the gate unnoticed by either the people or the guard himself.

Even as he passed right in front of them, it was as if none of them noticed.

It was almost as if he were a ghost.